A Brave New World
by BlueRonin
Summary: No good deed goes unpunished.
1. Chapter 1

A Brave New World

Chapter One

Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Fairy Tail or anything else other than the plot.

Summary: No good deed goes unpunished.

A/N: A while back I grew tired of -Naruto- being destroyed by the worlds first and most rabid Uchiha Sasuke fan boy and went looking for a new manga to enjoy. Now this was not the first time this happened. That fan boy has been pissing me off for a long, looong time. But the first time that happened I found -Hunter x Hunter- a manga that I recommend... at least until the end of the Greed Island Arc. The art gets weird after that, for some reason. Anyway, this time I found -Fairy Tail-. I'll be honest with you. With a name like that I almost skipped over it in search of something more my style. I'm so glad I didn't. It starts with the perfect mix of violence, humor and hot girls in skimpy outfits. Then it just keeps getting more and more awesome with every issue. You can guess what happened next, right? Damn plot bunny! I tried killing it with fire but the furry little bastard just laughed at me, so I put away my flamethrower and here we are. Enjoy.

[hr]

The sun was shinning, the birds were singing and a young man was laying on the ground in a rather uncomfortable position.

"Ohhh... what hit me?" asked Xander Harris as he opened his eyes. "And where the hell am I?" he wondered looking around. "This is definitely not my bedroom."

Around him Xander saw green grassy fields, tall trees and a mountain off in the distance.

"All right, time to get up." With a groan Xander tried to get to his feet, "Come on, you can do it," but started to feel dizzy and, with a grunt, went right back down, "No, no you can't."

"New plan, I'm going to stay right here until the world stops spinning," he muttered closing his eyes and patting the ground. "Yup, I like that plan."

Almost against his will, Xander's mind went back over the events that lead him here.

Tara's senseless murder, Willow's grief that soon became rage, quickly followed by her descent into black magic and her brutal revenge.

Xander Harris had seen some terrible things in his short life, things no one should ever see, but seeing his oldest and dearest friend killing Warren in such a vicious manner - regardless of how much the bastard deserved to die - shook him to the core.

That should have been the end of it but things only seemed to get worse.

When Willow had her vengeance and the rage faded, all that was left was pain.

When Willow went to Kingman's Bluff to end the world Xander raced after her, not to save the world but to save his friend.

Xander placed himself between Willow and the statue of the demon and took her attacks, not to save the world but to save his friend.

Her magic cut his flesh and cracked his ribs, but he ignored the pain, focusing on trying to get through to his friend.

Xander felt her magic pulsing across his body and knew something was wrong, but he ignored his fear and told Willow he loved her.

Even as Willow fell to her knees, breaking into tears and he took his friend into his arms, Xander felt the magic run through his body like liquid fire.

He smiled as her hair turned from black to the familiar red color, even as the urge to scream in pain became almost unbearable.

Placing a kiss on her head, Xander rose to his feet and took a few unsteady steps away from Willow.

Looking at his friend he tried to say something comforting, or at least something funny, but the world seems to twist and go dark.

The last thing he saw was the shocked look on her face.

"Willow..." With a sigh, Xander once again tried to get to his feet. Rolling over he got to his knees and, taking a deep breath, he slowly stood up.

"All right let's see, two arms, two legs, ten fingers, ten toes and... yup, little Xan and his two friends are all there," he said pulling his pants back up after a quick check.

'Now let's figure out where I am, because this is not SunnyD.' Turning until the mountain was to his right, he started walking. 'I get the feeling this is not even California.'

[hr]

Xander had been walking for what seemed like hours, searching for signs of civilization.

'No power lines, no cell phone towers, no candy wrappers on the ground... where the hell am I?' His stomach rumbled. 'What I wouldn't do for a Twinkie right about now.'

'The sun is going down, I better find some shelter before it gets dark.' Looking around he saw plenty of trees, but nothing that would offer much shelter at night. 'There's got to be a camping ground or a hunting cabin around here somewhere.' A sudden cold wind made him shiver. 'Right now I would take a cave... preferably a bear free cave.'

After walking for another hour or so, always keeping the mountain in the distance to his right to avoid going in circles, he saw something.

'Is that a...YES!' Now running, Xander shouted. "A road! Thank God, Santa Clause, Playboy and Hostess, the holy provider of Twinkies, a road!"

As he came closer, his joy faded. "A small road, a small dirt road." He stopped running at the edge of the so called road, which turned out to be little more than a trail between the trees. 'All right, so it's not a highway and getting out of here won't be as simple as hailing a taxi.' He looked both ways in search of vehicles. 'I'm sure plenty of... tractors pass by.' Running a hand through his hair, Xander eloquently summarized the situation. "Crap."

'Should I keep walking? There could be a farm around here. But what if somebody drives by?' Looking to the horizon he saw the sun was almost setting. 'I'll wait twenty minutes then I have to keep moving.'

Sitting on a rock by the side of the road, Xander looked down the road while trying to ignore the growl from his empty stomach and the dropping temperature.

[hr]

'Dammit, it's been half an hour and the sun is setting, I have to keep moving while I can still see where I'm going.'

Standing, Xander streched his arms above his head and looked around. 'This outdoors stuff is not for me, I'll take a comfy sofa any day.'

Walking down the road Xander started to daydream about finding a welcoming farmhouse. 'Yeah, with a nice couple that will invite me for dinner - a big home cooked meal - and a cute daughter who will bake me chocolate chip cookies... Hearing a growling noise, Xander looks down. "Quiet you," he says to his stomach.

Hearing another growl Xander realized it wasn't his stomach. 'It's coming from behind me!' Turning around, he saw movement up the road. His first instinct was to scream *hey, over here* but Xander Harris was born and raised on the Hellmouth, where he spent years fighting all kinds of monsters. He lived through both the yearly Apocalypse and High School. His survival instinct was razor sharp and it was currently screaming at him.

Xander quickly ran off the road and hid behind a tree. 'All right, I'm far enough from the road that whatever it is can't see me, but when it gets closer I should be able to see it. Xander waited a moment for his hart to slow down and started to check his pockets for weapons, only to came up empty. 'Of course, I didn't take any weapons with me to Kingmans's Bluff, I could never hurt Willow...'

Shaking his head to clear it from painful thoughts, Xander looked around for a weapon. 'That fallen tree branch could make a half decent staff, but I would have to go out into the open to get it. Let's call that Plan C.' By his feet he found a rock the size of an orange. 'Plan B, if whatever is out there attacks, I'll wait until it gets close and then trow this rock at its head. If it's still a threat I'll get the tree branch to finish it of.' He turned his attention back to the road. 'Plan A, be very quiet and hope whatever it is just passes me by.'

It was getting darker by the minute and he still couldn't see it, but from the sounds it was definitely a large animal. From the growling it was safe to say it was a predator of some kind. Xander lamented his luck. 'It's never a fluffy bunny or a cute puppy.'

Soon, there were other sounds, the kind you did not expect to find with a predator. Man made sounds. 'What's going on?' he wondered. 'Maybe some locals are hunting it.'

Then he saw it. 'What the hell is that thing?' It looked like a wolf, if wolfs were the size of horses. 'There is no way that is a normal wolf. It's bigger than Oz around the full moon!' The wolf had a leather harness connected to a carriage by chains. 'They are using that monster to pull that thing?'

Before Xander could question these peoples sanity, he got a better look at the carriage. It had four wheels, not rubber tires but actual wheels made entirely of wood. The carriage itself however, was made up of several metal bars forming a rectangular frame. 'It's a cage,' he realized.

Walking alongside the carriage were four men armed with spears and wood clubs. 'Unusual weapons, still they could be hunters that captured the wolf as a pup... and then fed it Super Grow Wolf Food™?' Xander sarcastically asked himself.

As the carriage drew near Xander began to see shapes moving around inside the cage. 'Please god, let it be animals,' he prayed. His luck held true to form when the carriage, passing between a large gap in the trees, crossed the last rays of the setting sun. 'People. Of course, they couldn't be hunters coming back with some live prey or some traveling circus transporting a couple of lions or another hundred different perfectly innocent things. It just had to be a group of armed men transporting people in a cage pulled by a giant wolf.

'What should I do? I'm not a cop.' [That never stopped you before]

'These guys are human, not vampires or demons.' [That doesn't matter]

'For all I know the people in the cage are criminals.' [You don't believe that]

Xander continued to argue with his conscious while trying to decide what to do. Then the decision was made for him. Inside the cage someone was moving towards the back, specifically towards the door.

'What the... are they picking the lock?' He got his answer when the door flew open and someone jumped out. The guards reacted quickly but were too buzy stopping anyone else from escaping out the wide open door to immediately give chase.

The lock picker turned turned out to be a teenage girl with long blue hair in a pony tail and she was quickly running away from her captors. As luck would have it, she was running in his general direction.

'Oh joy, she's coming right at me. This is none of my business,' Xander tries to convince himself as he sees two men, armed with clubs, begin to run after the girl. 'She doesn't need my help, she'll be fine,' he tells himself as a third man, armed with a spear, joins the chase.

'I'm going to stay right here and when they are gone, I'll start walking the other way.' The girl triped on something and stumbled to her knees. As the girl tried to untangle her foot, she looked up and for a moment their eyes met. Xander saw her eyes widening in surprise and then her expression changed to a silent plea for help. 'This is not my fight.'

The blue haired girl managed to free her foot and get back up but her pursuers have gained on her. 'This is not my fight.' The closest of her pursuers was almost upon her. The man waved his club above his head and grined in anticipation. The third man raised his spear, preparing to throw it at the girls back.

'This is not my... ha, who am I kidding?' Xander jumped out from behind the tree, running to save the girl with only a half formed plan in his head, a rock in his hand and a grin on his face. 'Just like the good old days.'

With his left hand Xander picked up the fallen tree branch and as he closed in, raised his right hand. 'Here we go!'

The first sign that something was wrong was the third man getting hit in the face with a rock. At the sound of bones breaking the other two looked behind them to see the man fall, a spray of blood erupting from his face, his spear flying harmlessly over the girl. They turned back just in time for one to have his jaw shattered by a tree branch. As Xander saw his second target go down, unconscious before he hit the ground, he frowned at his now broken and useless tree branch. Looking at the last man -who is just now realizing that he is very much alone in the dark woods with a guy that took out two armed men- Xander's frown turned into a smirk. "Catch!" Xander said as he threw what was left of his weapon at the man's face, who instinctively raised his hands to protect his face, dropping his own weapon in the process. Grinning, Xander pulled his right foot back and kicked the man between his legs hard enough to make every male in the general area wince in sympathy. The right hook that knocked him out was an act of mercy.

Xander spared a grin at the gaping girl, absentmindedly making a note of her unusual golden eyes, before turning his gaze to the rest of the people locked in the carriage.

'There's only one guy left, I can take him.' Grabbing one of the clubs Xander runs to the carriege, hoping to get there before losing what's left of the element of surprise. The last man saw him and took a step back, calling out to some one in a frantic tone of voice.

A tall man steps from behind the carriage, calmly walking towards the edge of the road like he has all the time in the world.

' Uh! How did I miss that guy?' Xander asked himself as he picked up speed.

The new arrival stopped right at the edge of the road, facing the tree line, and seems content to wait for Xander to reach him.

In his long black coat and black cowboy hat, with the sun setting behind him, the man looked like someone out of a western.

'Who the hell does this guy think he is? Clint Eastwood?' Xander wondered.

As 'Clint' puts a cigarette in his mouth and lights a match on his belt buckle Xander has to admit. 'All right, that's a pretty good cowboy costume...'

The tall man pulled his coat back and the fading sun light shines off something on his hips.

'... right down to the six shooters!' Xander looked to both sides, searching for cover, but found none. He's out of the tree line and his only chance is to reach 'Clint' before he pulls the trigger.

'That's what he was waiting for, to get me out in the open.' Xander realized, running as fast as he can.

As the man places his right hand on one of his weapons Xander throws his club at him, hoping to buy some time.

He's too far away, his aim was off and worst of all, the man doesn't even flinch when the club flyes by his head and slams into the metal bars with a clang.

Xander watched as the revolver was smoothly drawn from its holster and slowly raised until it was aimed right at him.

Just before the trigger was pulled Xander raised his arms in front of himself in an instinctive if futile attempt to protect himself. 'Oh shit, I'm gonna die!'

The next moment two surprising things happened. First, instead of a bullet, the revolver shot a bolt of lightening. Second, just before hitting Xander, the bolt of lightening changed course and hit a tree off to the side causing the trunk to explode.

Both Xander and the cowboy were surprised by this unexpected turn of events, if for different reasons.

Realizing this was not the time to question his luck Xander kept running and the cowboy kept shooting. Two more bolts of lightening suddenly changed course just before hitting Xander, destroying two more trees.

Just as Xander was beginning to believe he was going to live through this the cowboy drew his second weapon. Aiming both revolvers at Xander, the cowboy pulled the triggers.

Instead of lightening bolts two large fireballs shot out of the barrels, quickly combining into one massive fireball. Faced with the possibility of a fiery death, Xander decided he had pushed his luck enough for one day and jumped out of the way.

The seemingly ever growing fireball passed by far to close for Xander's comfort and exploded on impact somewhere behind him, sending him tumbling towards the road.

Struggling to his feet Xander saw the cowboy flip his revolver until he was holding it by the barrel. Before Xander could begin to wonder what he was doing the cowboy seemed to disappear in a blur and reappear right in front of him. 'Fast,' was all Xander had time to think before the cowboy hit him across the face with the butt of his gun.

Xander was knocked of his feet and had just enough time to see the blue haired girl vanish into the trees before a big leather boot came flying at his face.

[hr]

In a dark underground chamber Xander Harris woke up screaming, "CLINTEASTWOOD!" Coughing up some blood he looked around, trying to get his bearings. He was in some dark stone room. From the tool marks on the walls, celling and even on the ground Xander was sure the room had been carved into the stone itself, like a man made cave. At some point metal bars were added to the only entrance, turning it into a makeshift prison cell. They looked sturdy and Xander was pretty sure he wouldn't be getting through them without some explosives or at least a couple of power tools. Witch made the fact that his arms were chained to the wall rather flattering, in a strange sort of way.

The only sourse of light was the fire from a hand full of torches on the walls. It was enough to see dozens of people huddled together. Man, women, even a few children, from all walks of life. A couple in simple clothing holding each other sat next to a woman wearing an expensive cocktail dress and a teenage boy in jeans and a t-shirt. The only thing these people had in common was the fear in their eyes.

Well that and the fact he was the only one chained to the wall.

They stayed away from him even though there was barely enough room for everyone. They kept glancing at him when they thought he wasn't looking, but quickly turned away when he looked at them. Were they afraid of him? Or...

"So, you are finally awake?"

Or were they afraid of sharing his fate?

Standing on the other side of the bars was the tall cowboy. He waited for Xander to look before speaking. "I was worried I had hit you too hard. I'm glad to see you recovering so quickly mister... Eastwood, is it?"

Xander looked at the cowboy, trying to figure out if the guy was screwing with him. "My name is not Eastwood," he said. "Do you really expect me to believe you were worried about me?" Xander inquired.

"Well, of course I was! I even went out of my way to ensure none of my men got their hands on you. After what you did to them, they really wanted some payback," he said with a smirk. "You should be thanking me."

'Yeah, that's gonna happen.' Resisting the urge to snort at the nerve of this guy Xander asked. "Why would you go out of your way to protect me from your own men?"

The cowboy smiled in a way that sent a chill up Xander's spine. "Well, isn't it obvious? I can't have those fools ruining the merchandise."

'Oh, I really don't like the sound of that,' Xander thought.

"Now don't get me wrong, I was going to kill you for helping that girl escape," he said. "Can you blame me? Mages are worth a lot of money, to the right people, and you did helped her escape."

'Mages? What the hell is this guy smoking?' Xander wondered.

"But then you came rushing at me, knocking my magic out of your way like it was nothing, and I figured some one would pay a lot of money for you. A lot more money than they would pay for that little girl, that's for sure. Say, what was that magic you used anyway? I've never seen or heard about something like that."

'Magic? I can't use magic! But I did stopped those lightning bolts from hitting me... somehow,' Xander mused.

"Not in a talking mood, eh? I can fix that," the cowboy said. For a minute it looked like he was going to walk into the cell and do just that, but then he reconsidered. "Nah, from what I've seen your magic is only good for defense but with such a strange magic it's better not to risk it. I'm sure whoever ends up buying you will have a lot of fun getting your secrets out of you. Who am I to spoil my clients fun, eh mister Eastwood?" he asked.

"My name is NOT Eastwood!" Xander growled, trying to ignore the cold knot of fear growing in his stomach.

"You think that matters anymore?" the cowboy asked. "What your name is, where you came from, where you were going, none of that matters now. This was my last run. I have been keeping my slaves in this abandoned mine for weeks now and I'm ready to sell my stock. From this point on you are just another slave," he said walking away.

Xander wanted to scream, he wanted to wrap his hands around that bastards neck and squeeze the life out of him, but in the end he slumped back against the cold stone wall with a single thought echoing around in his head.

'No good deed goes unpunished.'

[hr]

A/N: A cookie to the first to correctly identify the magic used by Xander in this chapter. 


	2. Chapter 2

A Brave New World

Chapter 02

Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Fairy Tail or anything else other than the plot.

A/N:Well, it's been a while since I've posted a new chapter but don't think I'm just being lazy. My new job is eating up my free time like a shark in a kiddie pool. I work from Monday to Saturday, my only free time is on Sunday but by then I'm exhausted and my brain feels like it's melting. I'm not complaining, it's great to have a job, but it also means I can't write as often as I would like to. Well, here is the next chapter. Enjoy.

A/N 2: The cookie goes to Piterio, Xander was using Reflector magic. Congrats! Thank you for all the reviews and the favs, guys. Knowing that people enjoy your work really motivates an author.

(((XxX)))

One-Eyed Jack hated his name. He hated it with a passion, through it would be more accurate to say he hated the reason everyone called him One-Eyed Jack.

Oh, he had tried to stop people from calling him that, usually with his fists or a sharp blade, but the name just stuck. For a long time One-Eyed Jack was known for attacking anyone who called him that. Anyone at all. When he heard someone call him that hated name he saw red and pounced on them like a wild animal. It nearly got him killed, on more than one occasion. It also gave him a reputation as a fearless man, someone not to be messed with.

After a while, when people said his name they did so with respect or at least fear in their voices. Men came looking for him, either to collect the small but growing bounty on his head or hoping for a chance to work for him. Before he knew it he went from a small time bandit lurking in the shadows of dark alleys and empty streets hoping for an easy mark to rob at knife point, to the leader of a large bandit group that raided small towns and rich merchant caravans.

He had money to burn on wine and women. He had the respect of his men and the fear of his victims. Life was good.

So good in fact, that One-Eyed Jack almost forgot why he hated his name. In time he even grew to like it, or at least the way people reacted when they heard it.

It was just another raid. The town was small, it had no weapons and the law keeper was dead. He had killed the law keeper a couple of years before the raid, when One-Eyed Jack had first decided to squeeze the town dry. The fool had stood before them, proudly declaring that the town was under his protection and ordered them, ordered him to turn around and leave. One-Eyed Jack had enjoyed killing the arrogant fool.

From that point on the town, whose name One-Eyed Jack had never bothered to learn, belonged to him. They raided the town, took everything of value, had some fun with whatever girls caught their eye and then left. Only to come back a few months later and do it all over again.

It was just another raid. By that point the townspeople didn't even try to resist them, painfully aware of the brutal punishment received by anyone that dared to raise a hand against One-Eyed Jack or his men.

Maybe that's why it happened. The raids on that town had become so easy, so boring, almost routine.

One-Eyed Jack had taken his share of the valuables, of what little was left worth taking, then walked into the local bar dragging a crying girl by her arm. As he sat there drinking and pawing at the girl on his lap One-Eyed Jack looked around the bar with a sneer on his face. Whenever they rode into town all of his men would, sooner or later, end up in the bar. Rushing between the tables carrying drinks were the most beautiful women and the prettiest girls in town. When the raids began most of the townsmen managed to hide their wives and daughters. When One-Eyed Jack figured out what they were doing, he gathered everyone in the town square and made a very public demonstration as to why that was a very bad idea. Two years after the first raid the very same wives and daughters that men had died to protect now served him and his men as if they were kings. One-Eyed Jack looked at the townsmen playing music to entertain them, pouring drinks and cooking food for the women to serve him and his men and was disgusted by them. Where was their pride? Even as one of his men grabbed a girl, bend her over a table and lifted her skirt no one did anything to stop him. The closest thing to a reaction came from the small band playing on stage. A boy stopped playing his guitar and sat there frozen in place, looking at the girl bent over the table. He was about her age. Was he the girl's brother? Her husband? In the end it didn't matter. The man sitting next to him on stage nudged the boy with his elbow and the boy turned his eyes away from the girl and resumed playing. Pathetic. Was their spirit so easily broken? He would never allow anyone to break him like that.

Looking around the bar, growing more disgusted by the minute at the weakness of his victims, One-Eyed Jack saw something that twisted his face into a confused frown. Sitting on a bar stool sipping a drink was a man. There was nothing unusual about that, the bar was crowded and there wasn't an empty seat in the place. The unusual part was the fact that One-Eyed Jack didn't recognize him.

Since he started raiding the town there were no new faces around. For obvious reasons no one wanted to live in or even visit this once quaint and peaceful town. The only people that still lived here were the ones too poor or too scared to move away.

Even sitting on the bar stool it was apparent the man was tall. A long black coat wrapped around a slim frame and his face was shadowed by the wide brim of his black hat.

To this day One-Eyed Jack didn't know what bothered him about that man. Maybe it was the relaxed air about him, even though he sitting with his back to a room full of violent, armed men as if he had nothing to fear from them. Maybe it was the fact that he couldn't see through the shadows that hid his face in the well lit room. Or maybe it was the way the tall man turned his head and gazed at him out of the corner of his eye. The stranger looked him up and down and One-Eyed Jack felt as if the tall man was weighing his worth, judging his value, before turning back to his drink, clearly dismissing him as unimportant.

For the first time in years One-Eyed Jack saw red.

He jumped out of his chair, knocking the girl on his lap to the floor and kicked the table his drink rested on out of his way. On some level One-Eyed Jack felt the festive mood change, heard the music stop only to be replaced by the sound of his men cheering him on. He pulled his sword from the leather scabbard with a snarl and rushed forward, blade held high above his head. The tall stranger barely glanced his way before a bolt of lightening erupted from the dark depths of his long coat.

One-Eyed Jack's world was reduced to pain.

Screams of anger, pain and fear. Smell of blood, shit and piss.

One-Eyed Jack briefly wondered why he was looking at the ceiling.

When the world started making sense again bolts of lightening were flashing before his eyes. He was on his back, on the ground looking up at the tall stranger. He was even taller now that he was standing. Maybe it was the bolt of lightening One-Eyed Jack was just now realizing he had been hit with. Maybe it was his current position on the ground. Either way, at that moment, One-Eyed Jack thought the man was a giant about to crush them all beneath his boot.

In that moment he remembered why he hated being called One-Eyed Jack.

He remembered the mage he had foolishly attacked in his youth.

He remembered the way the mage easily blocked his attack.

He remembered the way the mage looked at him before ripping his eye from his face with a simple wave of his hand.

He remembered the way the mage turned his back on him and walked away, dismissing him as unimportant. As if he was nothing.

The worst wasn't losing his eye. Even then he was no stranger to pain and the scars a violent life left behind.

The worst was the way the mage made him feel. Weak, small, insignificant.

He remembered laying there for a long time, a part of him hoping the mage would return and kill him while at the same time a part of him feared the mage would do just that.

On that day, looking up at the dark giant cutting down his men with bolts of lightening, One-Eyed Jack just felt an overwhelming hatred for every mage in the world.

When it was over a small cheer broke out. The townspeople cried, laughed and hugged each other. Their nightmare was finally over.

One-Eyed Jack saw a girl run to her savior, tears in her eyes and words of gratitude on her lips.

As she reached her savior, his arm shot out like a snake and his hand wrapped around her neck. Easily lifting the girl off her feet the mage casually informed the townspeople that from that moment on they were ihis/i slaves.

One-Eyed Jack saw the expression on the girls face change from shock to horror to fear and finally settle on acceptance. He imagined the same expressions on the faces of the other townspeople. Their nightmare was just beginning.

The mage looked down at him, the shadows receding to show a smirking face, and thanked him for breaking the will of his new slaves. Then he pointed his weapon at One-Eyed Jack's face.

He was going to die but he wasn't afraid. Losing everything he had fought, bled and killed for. Losing it all to a fucking mage. Death was better than living like that again.

Since that day One-Eyed Jack often wondered if the damn mage had read his mind or if he had seen something on his scared face that told the mage that death was a welcome mercy.

For what ever reason the mage had lowered his weapon, looked down at him for a long moment and said the seven most cruel words anyone had ever said to him.

My name is Dalton, you're mine now.

From that day forth One-Eyed Jack worked for Dalton, doing everything the mage demanded of him. He wasn't the only one. Several of his men had survived, spared by the mage. But they weren't his men, not anymore. They didn't respect him anymore and they sure as hell didn't fear him. The same men that had once looked at him with awe for all he had accomplished now mocked him for all he had lost. No, not lost. Taken from him by that damn mage.

So yes, One-Eyed Jack hated his name with a passion.

He dreamt of revenge, of wiping that damn smirk of Dalton's face before he killed him with his bare hands. He also knew it was never going to happen. Over the years working for the mage he had seen Dalton's power many times. Watched as the mage used his magic to take what he wanted and destroy everyone that stood in his way.

No, One-Eyed Jack couldn't kill Dalton. But then, Dalton wasn't the only mage within his reach.

He took a burning torch off the wall and made his way to the deepest tunnel of the old coal mine, where they kept the slaves 'till it was time to sell them. One-Eyed Jack wasn't sure this was a good idea. That mage was worth more money than all the other slaves put together. If he killed the mage, Dalton would...

All thoughts of Dalton's anger and his punishment left One-Eyed Jack's mind the moment he got to the steel door to the slave pen. Wrapping his hands around the door's cold metal bars he glared at the mage, imagining his hands were wrapped around his neck and-

"Hey, why are you staring at me like that? Have you seen one too many prison movies?"

What did that little shit say!?

"Now, don't get me wrong, I'm flattered and I understand how you could fall madly in love with me at first sight. Let's face it, I am ruggedly good looking but you are just not my type. So pull your tongue back into your mouth and stop drooling all over the ground. It's creeping me out."

The fucking mage was mocking him! "You broke my nose and knocked out my two front teeth with a rock, you little shit!"

"Oh, I remember you now! As I recall, at the time you were about to trow a spear into an unarmed girl's back. Is that what you do for fun? Does killing little girls make you feel like a big man? Piece of shit, I should have stomped on your throat when I ran by you. Besides, I don't know why you're complaining about your nose and your teeth. It's not like you could get any uglier. In fact, I would say it's an improvement."

One-Eyed Jack saw red.

(((XxX)))

Xander Harris had a talent. He had it since he was a kid. He could piss people off with just a few words. Granted, as talents go, it wasn't as impressive as say being able to twist a demon's head off it's shoulders as easily as twisting a lid off a jar of peanut butter but it still came in handy sometimes.

Xander knew he wasn't going to get out of those chains, let alone through those very sturdy looking steel bars, on sheer strength. He wasn't a Slayer, a fact that had been repeatedly pointed out to him over the years. So when he saw one of the guys he had smacked around last night, he decided to put his God given talent to good use.

By pissing him off Xander hoped he could push the guy into doing something stupid that, at a later date, would give him a fighting chance of escaping. He did not however expect the guy to throw himself against the steel bars like a bull a couple of times before regaining some semblance of control, pull a key from his belt and use it to open what turned out to be a door.

'Oh, shit! That's a door? I didn't see the lock!'

The guy was through the door and he looked pissed.

'Of course it's a door, you idiot! How would they get people in and out of this place without a door? Magic?' Xander berated himself.

The guy pulled a knife from his belt and rushed Xander.

'Oh yeah, this was a great idea,' Xander thought with a mental roll of his eyes before slamming his right boot into the knife wielding maniac's leg, hard. Xander felt the shin bone break and quickly tilted his head to the side, the knife barely missing his face and hitting the rock wall behind him hard enough to break the tip off the blade. Off balance and unable to stop his momentum, Xander's would be killer hit the rock wall face first. A distinctive sound was heard by everyone being held prisoner in that man made cave but Xander was pretty sure he was the only one to recognize the sound of a broken neck. 'I've certainly heard it enough times to recognize the sound. It's better not to think too hard about what that says about my life.'

Xander grunted as the dead body fell on him. He tried to shift the body off him but it was too heavy and his hands were still chained to the rock wall. 'Well, I'm still stuck here but at least now I have a smelly bleeding corpse on top of me. Awesome.'

"Hey, can anyone give me a hand over here?" Xander called out to his fellow prisoners. "Anyone at all?"

The only answer to his request was absolute silence. 'I can tell it's going to be one of those weeks.'

(((XxX))) 


End file.
